A Little Less of Us
by ThePointGirl
Summary: A John/Lestrade/Sherlock fiction. 'I like your black tattoo, I think this angel's got a broken halo'. John starts moving away from Sherlock and closer to Lestrade. Rated M for later chapters.


**Title:** A Little Less of Us.  
**Author:** ThePointGirl  
**Fandom:** Sherlock  
**Pairing:** John & Lestrade & Sherlock  
**Warnings:** Well it is SLASH so use you head.  
**Feedback:** Review or message me about it.

**Disclaimer: **Sir Arthur Conan Doyle owns Sherlock Holmes :) A brilliant mind and so was his creation.

**Note: **Does anyone know the name of Lestrade? Most people have used Greg so I am going to.

* * *

_Sweat drippin and I can't breathe.  
You always build me up, and then you take me down._

_It's just a one night stand.  
I like it when you want again.  
You know I like you cuz you're crazy.  
I love the way you tease me,  
Right or wrong_

_It's just a one night stand  
I can't get you out of my head.  
You know I'm feelin kinda sleazy, you make it seem so easy  
Right or wrong_

_I like your black tattoo,  
I think this angel's got a broken halo.  
I love the way you smile, when you look back at me._

One Night Stand by Divide the Day 

(This gave me the idea for this fiction)

**Chapter 1

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**

John breathed heavily as he came to a stop.

Right in front of Lestrade, nearly knocking the DI over.

"John, what's happened? I thought we were stationed here?" Lestrade asked with a frown, his round brown puppy dog irises – which Sherlock says make him look like a little boy – showed worry, confusion, and exhaustion. John didn't take the time to register that Lestrade had used his first name, instead of his last. The man looked genuine...

"Yes well, Sherlock didn't tell you that – not surprising. And um Sherlock is..." John breathed, feeling Lestrade's hand on his shoulder. He turned just as the sound of running feet came in the opposite direction. Scotland Yard's officers were in position for anything, hands on holsters. The whole escapade had reminded John of a military operation. It was Sherlock and the suspect they were meant to find and arrest. Sherlock grabbed the back of the man's hoody and the guy slipped, sending the two of them to the ground. Other officer's swarmed to pick the guy up who was swearing left right and centre at anybody who would listen to him. Sherlock was not one of them. Wiping his hands on his coat, Sherlock began to walk over to Lestrade.

"That, Lestrade, is your murderer – he used perox-"but Lestrade didn't look like he cared much at what the man had used on his victims.

"Sherlock – what was that?" and when Sherlock did not reply, he continued "You tell me and my officers the wrong location?"

John watched Lestrade and Sherlock, the two of them had similar expressions. Look of exasperation and annoyance. Lestrade had his hands in his coat pockets. John noticed he did this to save himself from hitting Sherlock, something many officers of the law find they would really like to do. These involving Donovan (who swore at him mostly) and Aderson (who Sherlock dismissed as being worth talking to). John found Sherlock irritating at his lack of personal and social skills, but mainly interesting, humorous, and a good friend.

"Well I made the deduction that he _would_ run this way. So, speaking like a pure cadet, I did tell you the right location. It's _simple_ if you look at streets and alleys in London-"Sherlock said, his tone wasn't degrading – for once. Sherlock reminded John more of a child that had come home late and had to give an explanation. He had one eyebrow raised – a look John had seen him give many people. It was a challenge, a challenge to tell him he was incorrect. But Lestrade wasn't one to back down easily; he was a copper, that gave just about everything to the Met. A character John recognised in Afghanistan in his squadron. But thinking back to what Lestrade had told John the first night about Sherlock. _'Because I'm desperate'. _Lestrade needed Sherlock to assist him, Sherlock (though he wouldn't admit it) needed Lestrade to give him cases and to congratulate him. John? He need both of them to keep him on a somewhat sane level of society.

Lestrade closed his eyes with a noise that was a cross between a sigh and a growl. This was the part in any soap opera where Sherlock would apologise and it would be a hug and make up. Sherlock took a step back. He clearly thought that Lestrade was about to attack him. The DI opened his eyes, looked Sherlock up and down, turned around and walked away.

"That doesn't normally happen" Sherlock commented. John rolled his eyes. Lestrade had learned that the best way to stop yourself from being pissed off at Sherlock is to ignore him.

"I think he's had enough of you for about a week. Let's hope there are no more murders so he can get his rest" John said watching Lestrade talk to his colleagues and get in a car.

"You manage it" Sherlock said and John let out a laugh.

"Well – I'm hungry" John stated avoiding Sherlock's last remark. They began to walk together, John dropping in sync with Sherlock's footsteps.

"I know a good Chinese" Sherlock said and John accepted. Sherlock's taste in restaurants was good, even though most of their owners were in Sherlock's debt for a case.

They walked to the restaurant, it wasn't that far away. The red, glimmering gold and black signified a typical Chinese restaurant. Smirking to himself he followed Sherlock into the place. As John thought, Sherlock knew the owner. They got a table by the window, and cars and people walked languidly to their port of call. He felt his phone vibrate. He looked at the text.

_Loads of paperwork._

_Would you like it delegated to _

_S?_

_L _

John gave a snort of laughter and was about to reply when Sherlock spoke.

"Has Lestrade got a lot of paperwork?" and John creased his forehead in confusion.

"How did you-"

"John, it has been 17 minutes since we left Lestrade, it takes less than that time for him to get to his office at Scotland Yard" Sherlock said in a monotone and he took a sip from his wine. He text back quickly.

_It would be a pleasure._

_Have fun._

_W_

"What did you reply?" Sherlock asked.

"I said that it would be a pleasure" John said, leaving out the main part of the conversation. Sherlock's face went blank, a flicker of confusion. "To give you the paper work" he finished. He was surprised Sherlock hadn't put together. What did he think he was saying... oh...? _Oh..._

"Thank you John, how amendable" Sherlock said, but a grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Throughout dinner there was a relaxed atmosphere about Sherlock, not much but it was noticeable. A case closed. John decided to say the something he was sure would irritate Sherlock.

"Earlier, you and Lestrade reminded me of a father and child" he said, watching for a reaction, "you being the child" John added for jest. He liked doing things like this, it showed Sherlock he cared.

"I do not like being called a child. He's the little boy with the officer's badge" Sherlock said and John put down his wine glass.

"That has got to be the lowest remark you have said Sherlock Holmes" John said, a smug look printed firmly on his lips.

"Well he is. Why are we talking about Lestrade, he's not an interesting topic of conversation. Especially when I have nothing to pin on him about his police skills" Sherlock's hand was making a circle on the white table cloth, his skin looked paler then usual.

"You should stop degrading him. He's a good officer. He respects you" John said plainly.

"Oh he's a good officer – average skills. At least now he has stopped asking unimportant questions about you" Sherlock demanded as the plates were cleaned. John forwned as they got up to leave, Sherlock saying a goodbye to the owner.

"What do you mean?" he asked as they began their walk back to 221b Baker Street.

"Questions, John, you know interrogative phrases"

"Yes, Sherlock I did do English at school. What kind of questions"

"It would have been easier for him to look up your file on the system" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

John was still puzzled at the information he was being given. Shaking his head he decided to let it go. Obviously getting a proper answer out of Sherlock was going to be impossible.

When they got back to 221b Mrs Hudson called up to them, asking if they wanted anything.

The rest of the evening was boring.

When John got into bed, he stared at his phone. Snatching it up with a huff he went through the messages. He had a new message from Lestrade. He handn't felt his phone vibrate.

_Thanks :-) _

_Tell Sherlock I'm going to kill him_

_tomorrow_. _¬_¬_

_L_

What did Sherlock do now?

Tomorrow to find out.

Lestrade didn't seem happy.

~Another day in Baker Street, London.

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_Review please :-) I AM continuing this._

_Btw - the tatoo bit in the song is relevant to later chapters and that Rupert Graves (Lestrade) has a tatoo on his right arm. xxx  
_


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